A Freelancer's Daughter
by Aelixievna
Summary: After the Reds and Blues crash on an unknown planet, they soon discover that they are not alone. A ghost of Project Freelancer has come to haunt them all in more ways than one. Full of laughs, feels and unexpected twists. This takes place after S10, but before the Chorus trilogy. Rated M for profanity (nothing you haven't heard on the show) and violence. I do not own Red vs. Blue!
1. Why are we here?

This story takes place a few weeks after the events of Season 10, but before Season 11. This is just a brief intro, teaser, what have you.

"Why are we here?"

"Because we are Blue. And you are Red. And the Blues and Reds do not get along. But! We are friends now! And this is what friends do. Isn't that right, Agent Washington?"

"Caboose, I think he meant-"

"Pipe down, you damn dirty Blues!"

"Everyone, please, quiet down" a calm voice rose above the others, after a few moments a hush fell over the group. Wash looked at the soldiers gathered before him. On one side of the table sat the Reds, their arms crossed, not looking particularly interested. Tucker and Caboose sat on the other side; Tucker was staring off at the door and Caboose was looking at Wash ready to cling to his every word. They had already been through so much. Taking down Project Freelancer, losing their home and their friends. Wash silently cursed Carolina for leaving and taking Epsilon with her. They needed a leader right now, their leader, and Wash was definitely not ready to assume that role. Again.

"Seriously though," Grif spoke up, after no one had answered his question properly. "Why are we here?"

Wash sighed and looked at the group one more time, trying to give them just a few more fleeting seconds of peace before he had to turn their world upside-down. "We're here," Wash sighed. "Because we're being hunted."


	2. What are they doing now?

Wash was not ready for the chaos that followed. The Reds and Blues began asking questions all at once, very loudly.

"What?"

"Why?"

"Is it the Meta?"

"No, we killed him, remember?"

"Is it someone from Project Freelancer?"

"Is it more Blues?"

"Guys!" Washington shouted, trying to stop them before they could get too riled up.

Caboose looked up at Wash and asked, "Is - is this because of Church?"

At the mention of his name everyone became silent. Tucker looked back at the door as if he was expecting Church to walk in and tell Caboose to shut up and that he was being stupid. Even the Reds looked uncomfortable.

"I.. I don't know," Wash said. "I'm not totally sure."

Wash felt uneasy bringing this up to the Reds and Blues without more evidence, but knew something was wrong, he could just feel it. And even if he wasn't right, the others deserved to know what he found.

"I first noticed it about two weeks ago," Wash began, he started to slowly walk back and forth; talking with his hands was a nervous habit of his so he tried to keep them clasped behind his back. "Do you remember when someone took some of the rations from Red Base?"

"It was Grif!" Simmons and Sarge both pointed at the orange soldier to their left.

"I told you! It wasn't me!" Grif shouted back. "The trail mix was missing and the healthy shit! I wouldn't eat that garbage even if I was starving."

"I don't think Grif did it," Wash said shaking his head.

"Told ya," Grif sneered at the other Reds.

Washington continued "I also noticed that the next day, someone took the sniper rifle."

"Church's sniper rifle?!" Tucker, who had been silent the whole meeting, stood up, making Caboose jump. "How?!"

"I found it when I was patrolling near the upper part of the cliffs," Wash explained. "I saw it and figured that Ep… Church… had left it behind, to give to you, Tucker. So, I brought it back down to the base and was going to give it to you, but by morning it was gone."

Tucker sat back down, he looked like all of the air supply to his helmet had been cut off and he had just deflated.

"Finally, I noticed that someone had been going through the wreckage of the ship."

"How do you know it wasn't one of us?" Simmons asked. "Sarge was in there the other day looking for parts to build-"

"A microwave!" Sarge quickly interrupted. "I, uh, couldn't stand the thought of not being able to, uh, make, uh, popcorn." The lie was so incredibly obvious that no one even bothered to ask Sarge any further questions, although, Grif's head did perk up at the mention of popcorn.

"It wasn't anything like that," Wash rubbed the back of his neck, not sure of how to phrase the next part. "The ship's manifest was missing, along with information we took from Project Freelancer. And… And our personnel files that we stole from the UNSC Hornets."

Donut raised his hand and asked, "Personal files? Does that include, like, diaries and stuff?"

"Personnel files," Simmons enunciated.

"It's all the information the UNSC had on us," Wash paused. "All of us." Everyone grew quiet, thinking of what this could all possibly mean.

"Agent Washington?" Caboose spoke up after a few moments.

"Yes, Caboose?"

"What is a man-fest?"

Wash rolled his eyes as the Reds and Blues started shouting again, at him, at Caboose, at each other. He stared at the cliffs and tried to tune them out. He really had no idea who was stealing from them or what they wanted with their personnel files. What he did know was that they were not alone anymore and that someone, most likely, wanted them dead.

* * *

Later:

The Reds and Blues did their best to increase security around their crash site. This meant that the Reds were on patrol 24/7. Unfortunately, this patrol only extended around their side of the site. It also meant that there were several times during the day that no one was patrolling at all, which usual mean it was Grif's shift and that he was sleeping. Or eating. Or doing other Grif like things. Washington did his best to try and keep watch over the entire group, feeling responsible for something that deep down he knew wasn't his fault. Tucker took shorter shifts, allowing the former Freelancer time to rest, but that was never for very long. Caboose's duty was to guard the wreckage in case the thief returned. Washington knew this was highly unlikely which is why he thought it best to put Caboose in the place where he was least likely to cause damage. So, of course, he was surprised when Caboose approached him and Tucker one afternoon, looking at the ground and kicking up dust with his boot.

"Hi, guys," Caboose said, not looking at them. "I just wanted you to know that I maybe kinda sorta possibly most likely definitely broke something."

"How?" Tucker cried incredulously. "You were guarding a crashed Pelican! Everything was already broken!"

At this point the Reds and Blues had been on high alert for the unknown individual for a week and a half, with no further signs of theft or suspicious activity.

"I did not mean to do it!" Caboose shouted back, his voice then getting very quiet. "It was an accident."

"Alright, Caboose," Wash sighed, shaking his head. "Show me what you broke."

* * *

Elsewhere:

"What are they doing now?"

"I told you, they are still just standing there and they are still just talking. That's what they were doing when you asked me five minutes ago and that is probably what they will be doing in five more minutes when you feel the need to ask again."

"Oh….. well… what do you think they're talking about?"

"I dunno, Z," the voice sighed. "Maybe they are talking about the meaning of life or how- wait! Here comes the Blue one!"

"They are all Blue, Penny," the first voice commented drly.

"No," the voice belonging to Penny retorted. "Actually half of them are Red. And I was talking about the blue Blue one."

"Ohhhhh!" Z's voice was laced with sarcasm. "Well that definitely clears that one up! Thank you for being so specific."

"Shut up," Penny snapped back. "They're moving. Let's go."


	3. That's not exactly what happened!

"Hey, that's not exactly what happened."

"Yes, it is. You said 'Z, I'm not staying here, I'm getting on that ship.' And the next thing I know, you're stowing away headed for-"

"Shhh shh shh," Penny hissed. She crouched down and threw the sniper rifle over her shoulder. She army crawled forward until she was hidden behind an outcrop with bushes.

"What?" Z was still where Penny had been standing moments before. "What is it?" She looked to her side, expecting him to be there; then did a double take up at him, standing in plain sight.

"Dude!" Penny hissed. "Get down here!" Z groaned loudly, letting his shoulders heave before he knelt down to where Penny had positioned herself.

"Well?" he asked impatiently. "What is it?"

"If you would shut up for a minute, I'd be able to tell you." Penny had pulled the sniper rifle off her shoulder and was scanning the canyon to find what had caught her eye. "I know I saw it," she muttered. She found the crashed Pelican and the wreckage and the Blues headed that way. She squinted her eyes in the scope. "Urgh, this stupid visor," Penny grumbled. She smacked the side of her helmet and the visor shot up.

"Penn, you really really shouldn't do that," Z cautioned her.

"I can't see though," she found the Blues again and scanned the canyon walls behind them. "THERE!"

"What?" Z asked quickly. "What is it?"

"Shit," Penny whispered. She started to fiddle with the scope and braced herself in the ground to shoot.

"Woah, woah, Penny, what are you doing?" Z's voice was panicked. "What's going on."

"Someone is on the other side of the canyon with a rifle," Penny squinted again and she took aim. "And they're about to shoot Agent Washington."

* * *

There was a loud bang that echoed through the canyon. Tucker jumped and covered his head. Wash spun around, battle rifle at the ready.

"What the fuck was that?" Tucker screeched.

Washington didn't respond. "Caboose, get to the Pelican," he shouted. "Tucker, call the Reds and tell them to take cover."

"But what if it was one of them?" Tucker shouted back.

"TUCKER!"

"Okay, okay, Jesus," Tucker grumbled as he sprinted after Caboose calling for the Reds on his helmet radio.

Washington felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up. He scanned the canyon frantically, looking for any sign of where the shot could have come from. He knew it wasn't over. He knew that something bad was going to happen. Trouble had a tendency to follow these soldiers wherever they went. Then again, he wasn't so lucky himself. He ducked behind a rock. Just as he was about to poke his head around another shot rang out. The ground next to his foot shot up and covered him in dirt. He began a string of curses under his breath. He was on the wrong side of the rock. He jumped over it and landed on the other side, crouched. With his back pressed against the granite he held his breath and waited.

He waited for what felt like hours. After he scanned the top of the canyon, for the hundredth time, and felt a little more at ease, he let himself relax a little. Whoever had shot at them must have left. He cautiously leaned out from behind the rock and sprinted for the Pelican. Part of him expected a hail of bullets to follow him, but there was nothing. He dove in through one of the door ways and rolled to the side. He stopped when his body slammed into something hard.

He looked up and saw that Sarge had stopped his body with his foot.

"It's about time," Grif groaned from somewhere behind Sarge. "We've been waiting for you for hours."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Wash stood up and brushed himself off. "I was a little preoccupied. You know, risking my ass for you."

"Who was it, Wash?" Simmons asked nervously. "Did you get a good look?"

Wash shook his head. He really hadn't seen anything. He looked around and felt confused. "Where are Tucker and Caboose?"

"Those Blue cowards are hiding somewhere in the back," Sarge informed him. "Soon as we got here they just bolted. Bunch of yellow-bellied-"

"Thanks, Sarge," Wash brushed past the Red sergeant.

* * *

Wash found the two Blues quickly. They were sitting on the floor next to each other, not saying anything. Tucker was holding his head in his hands and Caboose was staring out the window. The window was shattered and facing into the cliff, but that didn't seem to hinder Caboose's interest. Washington was about to say something when one of them spoke.

"He'll be okay... Right, Tucker?"

"Of course, he will, dummy," Tucker snapped. "He was a goddamn Freelancer. He'll be fine."

"I just don't want to be left alone again," Caboose said quietly, still facing the window. Wash sighed. They thought he was going to die and leave them like Church did. He felt oddly touched that they cared, but at the same time incredibly uncomfortable. He did not like that the two were so invested in his well-being. It made him feel even more pressure to be responsible for them. He didn't like the thought that he might possibly let them down. He shook his thoughts from his head and decided it was best if he hadn't heard their conversation. He stealthily took a few steps away from the door and cleared his throat.

"Tucker?" he called, pretending he didn't know where they were. "Caboose?"

"Here!"

The Blue soldiers both ran into the hallway and looked Wash up and down.

"Are you hurt, Agent Washington?" Caboose asked.

"No, Caboose," Wash assured him. "I'm fine. C'mon. Let's go back and find the Reds."


	4. Recovery Beacon

"Recovery Beacon: Agent Unknown. Recovery Beacon: Agent Unknown."

"AH!" Washington jumped as the message came through loud and warbled.

"What is that?!" Tucker spun around, looking Wash up and down.

"It is Mrs. Unknown," Caboose stated logically. "You should probably answer, Agent Washington. She sounds like a very important lady."

"It's not a phone call, Caboose," Wash explained. "It's an incoming distress beacon. I got them when I was recovering AI and armor enhancements for Project Freelancer… But.. I haven't gotten one since…"

"Is it Church?!" Caboose sprinted toward him "He could be in trouble!"

"Epsilon wouldn't be the one who is in trouble," Washington shook his head trying to make out the coordinates of the unknown agent. "But, it could mean that something's happened to Carolina."

"But isn't Church supposedly with Carolina?" Tucker asked.

"Guys!" Caboose was standing by the door. "What are you waiting for? We have to go save Church!"

* * *

Elsewhere:

"Recovery Beacon: Agent Unknown. Recovery Beacon: Agent Unknown."

"The fuck is that?" Church appeared in front of Carolina. The message stuttered as it repeated over and over. Carolina and Church hadn't talked much that day, mostly just tracking and walking and walking and then walking some more. The fact that they had been going for hours in silence made the message seem much louder. "How do you shut it up?"

"I have no idea," Carolina frowned. "It sounds like one of the messages the Recovery Teams that worked for Project Freelancer would get. But I don't understand. I don't know who this is. Or where they are for that matter."

"Let me," Church angled himself over Carolina's shoulder to better make out coordinates. "Goddammit."

"What?" she asked. "Can you make it out?"

"Yeah," Church sighed. "It's from the crash site where we left the Reds and Blues… I think something might have happened to Wash."

"We need to go," Carolina pivoted and headed back the direction they had come from at a full sprint. "Now."

* * *

Later:

"Hey, look!" Tucker shouted. "It's Carolina!"

Everyone looked to where Tucker was pointed and indeed saw Carolina running toward them.

"Wash!" she shouted. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

He jogged to meet her. "Are you okay?" he began looking over her armor for any signs of injury. "I got the Recovery Beacon and got worried."

"Wait," Carolina put up her hands and stepped back. "That wasn't you? I mean… you're fine?"

"Of course he's fine," Tucker scoffed. "Nothing ever happens here."

"Except Wash getting shot at," Simmons added. Tucker elbowed him in the stomach.

"You got what?"

"When?"

Carolina and Church shouted their questions in unison. After a few minutes of explanations, Wash assured them he was fine and pointed out the more pressing matter at hand. They still had no idea what had set off the beacon.

"I don't understand," Washington shook his head. "We thought it was you."

"Well, we thought it was you," Church explained. "Who else is even still alive, let alone could have the ability to set off a recovery beacon?"

"Louise?" Carolina guessed.

"Louisiana?" Washington shook his head. "Not possible. What about one of the triplets?"

"I highly doubt that any of them would have made it this far, Wash." Carolina made a face. "What if one of the AI set off the beacon because someone was trying to steal the armor?"

"No way," Church interjected. "You know all the AI were destroyed in the EMP."

"Emp," they corrected.

"Oh what-fucking-ever," he groaned.

"So," Simmons spoke up sliding away from Tucker ever so slightly. "If it wasn't Carolina and it wasn't Wash, then who was it?"

"Uh, guys?" a cautious voice called from higher up on the canyon walls.

"What is it, numb nuts?" Sarge called up to the orange soldier. "I sent you up there to patrol. Not to flap your yap!"

"I-uh-I think Caboose found something," Grif's voice shook a little. "You might want to come see this."

* * *

"I found a tiny human!" Caboose announced cheerily when the others had made it to the upper level of the canyon.

"You what?" Church and Wash asked in unison.

"It's a tiny human!" Caboose shouted again. "He is right over there, but I think that he is sleeping. So we have to be really really quiet."

The group followed to where Caboose pointed and saw a tiny figure lying face down in the dirt, in UNSC armor colored gold with teal trim, the Freelancer logo branded into the shoulder.

"Shit," Tucker whispered. "I didn't know you guys hired midgets. That's fucking sweet!"

"I believe the correct term is tiny human," Caboose said in a quiet matter of fact voice.

"We don't," Carolina breathed as she inched closer to the small body. "Well, I mean, didn't."

"Uh, why are we whispering?" Church asked at a normal volume.

"Is he okay?" Simmons asked, peering over Sarge's shoulder. "I could be wrong, but unless you're Grif, your chest moves when you sleep."

"My chest moves!" Grif retorted. "You know I have trouble breathing! My lungs don't work right."

"One of them is mine!" Simmons looked over at him exasperatedly. "It was in pristine condition when you got it!"

"Please," Washington interjected. "Quiet." He knelt closer to the body, trying not to move it, but looking for any sign of life. "The healing unit is about to overheat. He's probably roasting alive in there."

"Or he's already dead, dead man roasting," Sarge sang, the teal trim on the small set of armor was enough to qualify as Blue.

"Stop that," Carolina scolded. "Church, can you see if you can do anything? If this is Freelancer equipment there should be a way for an AI-"

"Way ahead of you," Church jogged forward and hovered over the body. "Wish me luck. Hrrgh gurgghh."

Church did his best to assess the situation, he could immediately tell there was massive trauma to the face and whatever armor enhancements the suit had were running on empty. He was just about to venture deeper when, in the blink of an eye, he was back on the outside, like he'd gotten booted from the armor. He shook his head in confusion.

"What just happened?" he muttered.

"That was quick," Simmons complimented him. "Did you find out anything?"

"I'm not sure," Church frowned. "I think- I think it's alive but- I think something weird is going on in there."

"Come on," Carolina sighed. "We should at least take him back to camp. Maybe he can tell us something we don't know."

"I'm going to take his helmet off first." Wash put down his battle rifle and walked over to the body.

"I would recommend not doing that if I were you," Church suggested. He knew just from the few seconds he'd been in there that whatever this thing's face looked like, it was not going to be pretty. "Seriously."

"He is probably dying of heat in there." Washington reached out and carefully rolled the body over. "Jesus Christ!"

"Oh my god.."

"Told ya."

As Wash rolled over the mini Freelancer the group collectively gasped. The helmet was completely shattered on the right side, exposing the pale skin underneath, but mostly blood.

"I think I might be sick," Simmons groaned holding his stomach.

"Dude," Grif scooted closer to get a better look. "That is fucking gnarly. What do you think happened?"

"I have no idea," Washington found himself grimacing a bit at the sight. "We should move him though. Very very carefully."


End file.
